Wild Princess
by PsychoticPhey
Summary: There wasn't a category for Sleeping Beauty, so here it is in miscellaneous. After growing up in the woods for 16 years with three fairies who don't really know how to do anything, what would that have done to her understanding of men and love?


Bonjour Wierdos!

Thanks for reading my first story!

Disclaimer: Oh wow, did you know that I'm a mystic? Yeah. I talked to Walt Disney. Yep, from beyond the grave. He seemed to think I was so charming and so much fun, he decided to pull some ghost, spirit hoohah and changed the name on the rights papers from his beloved children (apparently, he didn't like them that much) to me, so now I own everything Disney! Whaddya nuts? I own nothhhhhing.

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Once again, Briar Rose found herself on another inane errand in the woods. 

"I don't understand it. Aunt Flora, Fauna and Meriwether are still acting like I'm six." She sighed to the animals around her. "I should think I would be somewhat suspicious by now. They're not exactly subtle when trying to get me out of the house. Berries. Pfft. If I picked them yesterday, couldn't they at least come up with a more original excuse to get rid of me? Like firewood?" She snickered. "And they always warn me to be safe, but I don't see why. After all, I've been around this forest longer than some of you have been alive." The chipmunk in her lap nodded and two of the robins on her shoulder chirped their agreement. Briar Rose looked around her forest home. The miniscule amount of time she'd spent indoors all 15 years of her life were obvious.

It was as the fairies had bestowed on her at birth. Her hair was a long and radiant blonde, framing a face with ruby red lips and creamy white skin. Flora, Fauna and Meriwether rarely went beyond the confines of the cottage and in the dim light of the home could not see the deeply wild nature their Briar Rose had adopted. The animals of the forest were drawn to her-sensing a feral nature akin to theirs. She had learned to run with deer in the woods and had learned stealth from the fox and wolf. Rabbits had taught her to hide and the birds sang with her. She needed no singing lessons-in fact; she'd taught a few nestlings whose mother had the misfortune of being a blue jay. She was a good child in the cottage, but there was no mistaking that untamed personality that could only belong to Briar Rose.

"You know, it's a funny thing. Ever since I asked them about love, they've started acting very strange around me. I don't understand why. Everyone in these woods seems to have a partner. You all tend to act very silly around them too." There was a round of annoyed chirps from the birds and Rose laughed. "Well of course, you know it too. Is that what you call love? I've read about men and how brave and chivalrous they are, so I know what they look like. And apparently, they always save the girl in stories. But you know, when I first mentioned to the Aunts that I saw the castle-yes, the one just beyond the wood, they all started sputtering nonsense about how I must have dreamed it." She paused a moment and stroked the chipmunk in her lap. The woods were quiet, but Rose felt something strange-as if something wasn't quite right.

"But of course, that was years ago, so for all I remember, I might have. All I know is that I'd like very much to meet a man and see if the love they keep talking about in the stories is real. But I suppose I'd better get on with it. They're testing me on my waltzing when I get back and I'd best at least look like I know what I'm doing."

The birds flew into the tree above them as Rose set the chipmunk down next to her, got up and dusted herself off. She stretched luxuriously. Suddenly, owl, squirrel, two rabbits and two birds came up to her in a cape, hat and boots. Rose laughed lightly.

"I'm not going to ask where you got those, as long as you put them back, but what on earth are you doing?" The owl hooted and she smiled wider. "Ahhh, I see. You're to be my practice partner. Well, I suppose no one waltzes without a partner. Or music for that matter. What should I sing?" She stood there for a bit; pondering. "I have it! There was a song from a storybook about a girl wishing for a prince. Perhaps I should sing that. After all, I'm supposed to be dancing with a man."

S he began to hum to herself and stepped lightly around her cloak-covered animal friends. The words came to her and poured out of her-sweeter than birdsong. She was swaying around the trees, hair glowing in the slanting sunlight, legs flashing under her dress as she moved with the silence, grace and mystery of all things wild. Rose couldn't have been happier as she slipped in and out, touching the red cloak and singing the warbling robin song. The light was patchy on the forest floor and even to her animal friends who knew her, she scarcely seemed real.

Warm hands clasped her wrists.

A deeper voice chimed in the song

The owl gave her a sheepish hoot and shrugged.

Rose gasped out an "Oh!"

Philip stopped singing. "Oh, I'm awfully sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." Rose snapped out of her stupor and pulled her hand out of his grip.

"It wasn't that." He grabbed her other hand gently, but firmly. "It's just that you're a…a…"

"A stranger?"

Rose shook her head. "Uh uh."

"Well, then what?"

Rose took a deep breath. "It's because…you're…a man."

Philip laughed. Rose cringed at the sound and pulled at her hand. He felt the tug and stopped laughing. He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face.

"You're not afraid of me are you?"

Rose shook her head again. "No." she said quietly

"Then why do you keep pulling away?" She snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion. Philip raised his eyebrows and waited for her answer.

"Nothing in these woods will ever frighten me. But I've never seen a man before and I want to look at you." He backed away a step and smiled.

"Well, then look all you want. To be honest, I want to look at you too and make sure my imagination isn't playing tricks on me."

She laughed and pushed him away to arms length to gaze at him tirelessly. Her piercing eyes made him a little uncomfortable-like he could keep no secret from her. She ran her eyes carefully over his boots and his legs, flitting over his crotch to his stomach, pausing a while at his hands and moving up his arms, his chest, shoulders and neck. He felt her scrutinize his jawline, his chin, his nose. He waited to meet her eyes, but she skipped them and moved to his hair, ears and forehead. He heard a whuffling sound and looked at Samson. The poor horse was plainly bored and thought this whole thing was silly. He looked back at Rose and found her deep eyes staring remorselessly back at him. Her fey nature flickered in their depths and he was forced to take a step back. She didn't seem to notice his movement and, with his gaze still locked on her eyes, he stepped forward, took her hand and spun her into a waltz. Or at least, he had meant it to be a waltz. The court girls always submitted and allowed him to lead, but even with his hand at her waist and in her hand, he could feel her guiding them into a dance he had never done before. They whirled in a wild, frenzied madness that would have made him sick, but for her eyes keeping him steady. He felt them whipping farther into the woods, her dancing brought the breeze with the scent of flowers, the trees around them whispered the music they danced to, and the birds were silenced as Rose sang along with the trees in words of a language long forgotten by all but the rocks themselves. Her body was warm against his and Philip could feel himself forgetting everything but the deep pools of untamed light in her eyes.

Suddenly, she stopped. He was still gazing deep into her eyes. She blinked long, black eyelashes and gazed impishly back. He took her hand and walked a little way until he realized that they were leaning against a tree branch and looking out over Stephen's kingdom. He stroked her long hair and murmured softly, almost to himself.

"Who are you? What's your name?"

Rose had been as lost as Philip, wondering all the while at his warm body, his rough hands and muscular body. Her entire mind was numbed by a soft cloak of muted joy and her heart ached in a way she had never known before, so she was surprised to find herself able to speak when she heard his voice again.

"My name?" She repeated, unsure if she'd heard him right through her haze of blissful joy. "Why, it's…it's…" Her voice trailed away, but this time, it was not due to her haze of pleasure. In fact, it was because pain in the form of the Aunts' voices lanced through her cloud of pleasure.

"Don't go too far." scolded Aunt Meriwether.

"Be home before dark." advised Fauna.

"And don't speak to strangers." Flora had said. Rose retracted from Philip, fear finally striking her full in the chest.

"Oh no, no, no. I can't!" She ducked under the branch, feeling Philip's hurt and burning gaze on her back. He raced after her.

"But when will I see you again?"

"Oh never, never!" She kept racing toward her hood and shawl.

"Never?!" He yelped. He couldn't imagine never seeing this magnificent girl again.

"Well, maybe someday…" She said thoughtfully. She wanted to stay with him. She wanted to know him, to hug him, to know that she wouldn't have to leave him. The question kept whipping through her head; 'Is this love?" It was so fast, so confusing and so completely wonderful. He'd almost caught up to her and reached for her hand. She whirled away from him, skirts billowing around her.

"When? Tomorrow?!" He raced to catch up with her. She was starting to run like the deer had taught her to and it was getting harder and harder for him to keep up.

"Oh, no!" She yelled. Philip stumbled. When he recovered his balance, she was gone. He looked all around him, hoping for a clue as to where she went-a ribbon, a golden hair, anything. He couldn't see anything and buried his face in his hands. How? How could he have let such a creature get away? Had he imagined it all? Was she even real?

"This evening. At the cottage in the glen." Her voice piped back to him from nowhere and everywhere. He looked around as hard as he could, but still couldn't find any sign that she was anything but a figment of his imagination.

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Woohoo! First installation! I'll write another chapter if I get some reviews. 


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